


we're all see through, just like glass

by WhyDontWeBegin



Series: As I Fall [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Garlean Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Garleans (Final Fantasy XIV), Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm waiting for the day, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Making Up, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), THEY FINALLY STOPPED BEING DUMB, The Things Winter Did While She Was Away, dumb garlics r dumb, no beta we just die, spoiler alert: the things were largely nero, when will someone call me out on my titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22005367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDontWeBegin/pseuds/WhyDontWeBegin
Summary: They wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
Relationships: Nero tol Scaeva/Original Character(s), Nero tol Scaeva/Warrior of Light
Series: As I Fall [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1262435
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	we're all see through, just like glass

**Author's Note:**

> apparently I lied about what I was going to post next? this is good too though, very soft

_“All of this has left one question unanswered. If Cassia is dead... then I still have to ask: who am I?”_

_The woman before her took a step forward and took her hand in both of her own. “You are my daughter, Winter Slater. You are an adventurer, seeking to help people- be it recovery from the Calamity, or anything else. You are a wonderful, kind young woman. You are Eorzean.”_

_“I... I am a pureblood street rat from Garlemald. An ex-imperial.”_

_“You are not your past, nor your heritage. These last two winters with you, your actions even after remembering... they have proven that. You do not view us as lesser, or savages. When you look at us, at Eorzeans, you see people. People with their own lives, customs, beliefs. You are... quite unlike those in charge of the Empire._

_“You regret what you did in their name. You feel guilt over those conscripted. You cannot change the past, cannot erase what Cassia did- but you have a chance. A chance to better yourself.”_

_“I...”_

_“Choose your own path, Winter.”_

_—_

“... ‘Choose your own path,’” Winter mumbled, staring off into the distance. Her feet dangled over the ledge of the overhang she was seated on, brow furrowed and a frown on her face. “Look where that got me. I wonder... does she regret it, now that I’ve been accused of poisoning the Sultana? Hells... does she even know?”

“Ah, so this is where you ran off to,” came the hum from behind her, startling Winter from her thoughts. “I’d almost begun to worry someone had found you and finally did you in.”

“What, can’t afford to leave me with my thoughts for more than a half a bell?” Winter scoffed. Nero didn’t reply, and for a moment she wondered if she’d somehow missed him leave. But then he heard his footsteps behind her and he sat down on the stone next to her. A glance told her that he wasn’t looking at her, now, instead gazing out over Cartenau as she had been doing.

Nero was _just_ close enough that she could feel some of the wisps of his warmth. Winter wished, wanted to lean against him, for him to wrap an arm around her like they used to do back when everything was simpler. _Gods_ , she hadn’t even realized how much she missed having him around before this. Winter wondered, idly- if she could see her string, would it lead to him? If she paid attention, she could feel the barest hint of _concern_ at the edge of her senses. (She didn’t want to admit even to herself how much she hoped that her soulmate was the man by her side.)

“Something’s on your mind,” he finally said. “Care to share, or is it back to that stoic silence you’ve become so fond of? Seems rather counterproductive, considering we’re stuck together for the foreseeable future.”

Now she could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t look back at him, instead pulling one leg up to hug it and rest her chin on her knee.

“... Stoic silence, then?...” Nero sighed, and Winter felt her heart stop for a moment. He almost sounded... _disappointed_. She wanted him to say more, to press, to do _anything_ to tell her that he still _cared_ -

She heard him get up. She heard him leave.

(She didn’t even try to stop him.)

—

Nero wanted to hit himself. He knew she was hurting, though her wounds were healed- he always knew. He could read her like a damn book. He should’ve stayed even if he didn’t say anything else, but-

Oh. _Oh_ , he knew what this was. He was _afraid_ \- afraid that she’d lash out, perhaps, or that he’d mess up. (Again. Like he had back in Mor Dhona, blinded by his own anger and conflict. His near-death experience had, however, made him realize just how much he _regretted_ what he had said. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing aloud- and beyond that, how was he to handle it? To apologize? He had told her they were _enemies_ , and then he had pushed her to save her own life and leave him for dead.

And she had _listened_.)

Nero belatedly realized that he was afraid of how much he wanted to _hold_ her. It had been one thing to nearly loose his own life, yes, but finding her at death’s door had been a whole different kind of panic. He hadn’t been ready for it. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready, now, to loose _her_.

(He hated it. He hated that he still cared so damn much. But again, they had been through so much together. Seen and done things, helped each other time and time again. Pushed each other to the breaking point, but made sure the other never broke. She had showed him something no other had ever seen- she gave him her heart, showed him her vulnerability.

And what had Nero given _her_ in return? His anger?)

Winter did not return come morning.

—

She should’ve left as soon as she had recovered sufficiently from her injuries. Should’ve spared herself the pain. Surely, surely she would’ve been able to track down the other Scions or her fellow Warriors. It was, after all, her area of expertise- and even if she was unarmed, and she was rarely truly unarmed, the Crystal Braves didn’t stand much of a chance against her. (They had taken her by surprise, broken her armor. It had hurt like a damn bitch but it didn’t stop her from running.)

Yes, Winter should’ve left Nero to his own devices almost a fortnight ago, now. It would’ve been better than- than _this_. (She wanted, wished he would realize, and stop her before she left under the moonlight.

He did not.)

She was tired when the sun began to peek over the horizon. She furrowed her brow as she thought, pausing and glancing around. Aye, it was foolish, but she could cover more ground in less time if she kept moving. It wouldn’t be the first time she wove her way through a warzone without sleeping for several suns. This, she could survive.

(Winter wanted him to come for her. She wanted to fix this. To reach out, to fix what _she_ had broken, knowing exactly what she was doing. But the words escaped her.)

—

When Nero found her, it’d been several days. Several days and she was on the ground, dirty and unconscious. He felt a fresh wave of panic rise up unbidden, a consequence of the _last_ time he’d found her like this-

Winter was blessedly unharmed. Nero released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, now that he’d checked. He gently, gingerly picked her up, cradling the small woman against his chest. “You foolish, foolish woman. What ever am I to do with you,” Nero murmured, knowing full well she wouldn’t reply. But a small, fond little smile came to his face anyways. Perhaps she _was_ a fool, yes, but- she was the fool Nero himself had fallen for. Precious little could be done about _that_ , he’d found.

—

Winter came to slowly. Unusual, for her- but she was warm. That was easily the first thing she became aware of- and in the slow haze of comfort that had settled over her, she realized she didn’t remember falling asleep. She’d been... walking... and then what?

She felt a hand in her hair and realized what must’ve happened, because she knew this hand. Warm, calloused from years of working with tools and machinery and magitek, not to mention his gunblade. (Or hammer, she supposed. Either or. Winter wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been using it.) “You are an utter fool, you know,” Nero said softly. Winter huffed, but she could hardly _deny_ such a thing.

Nero leaned over her, supporting his weight on his elbows and pressing his forehead into her hair. “Look at me?”

Winter grunted before acquiescing to his request, giving him a dead look out of the corner of one eye. It made warmth bloom in his chest- how many times had he seen her make that face? How many mornings? Nero brushed a few strands out of her face, taking note of how she didn’t object. Didn’t protest. “We need to talk.”

“I thought you made your point clear last time,” she huffed, and the flicker of _hurt_ across his face that she would’ve missed were she anyone else sent a pang of guilt through her. Winter fumbled for something else to say. “But your actions say otherwise...”

Nero swallowed thickly, pointedly avoiding eye contact, jaw clenching and unclenching. She could see tension lining his form, now, where it hadn’t been before- she shouldn’t have said what she did. She shouldn’t have said anything at all- but Cassia was not known for having a filter so much as for her sharp tongue and brutally honest words, not any more than Winter was. Nero knew this.

(That didn’t make it better, of course.)

“I...” Nero paused, cleared his throat. Wet his lips with his tongue and- damnit, that was just as distracting as it used to be. He sighed through his nose, closed his eyes. Winter knew that there was nothing she could do- not about _this_ struggle.

“Nero?...”

Nero sucked in a breath and heard her shift- probably to stare up at him properly, considering the concern in her tone. He dipped his head down and rested his forehead against her shoulder- just where he’d expected it. It was like an old pattern, a wavelength they naturally fell into with each other, regardless of if they wanted to. They were in sync, functioned on the same rhythm, as it were. (Nero recalled that he’d met many who described working with their soulmates like that. Like someone who knew exactly what you were thinking without words, without question, who you could depend on- perhaps there would be conflicts, but there was a flow. He wondered if that’s what they had. If they were more than just lovers.)

“I-... Winter, I said that in the heat of anger. Near-death experiences...”

“Tend to be enlightening,” she finished. It was something she’d said to him, once- around the time they’d first gotten together.

“Yes. And then I... I can’t do it again,” Nero mumbled- he knew she’d know. He knew he didn’t have to explain- he never had to explain, not with things like this. Not for a long time. (Hells if he wasn’t thankful for it, either- Winter was even worse at putting her feelings into words than he was.) “I don’t want...”

_To have any regrets_. It hung in between them, unspoken but very much implied. Winter only needed a moment to determine her own feelings.

“You and me both.”

Nero didn’t get a word in edgewise before she’d guided him into a kiss. It was warm, and soft, and five years of pain and longing and guilt and regret colored it- five years of still loving, even when they didn’t want to, because when was it ever that simple? (Never. It was never that simple, they both knew it. But they also knew they wouldn’t waste this chance- give anything in their power to not mess up a second time.)

When they parted, it was for a fraction of a second. They had- so much to make up for. Lost time, especially. But it stayed soft, sweet, even when Nero started trailing kisses down her jaw. He handled her like glass, like he was afraid she would disappear. As much as it irritated her, she also appreciated it- and understood why. Winter had died on him once before, when she was still Cassia and the Calamity hit and left her bereft of her memories for two years. He’d found her at the brink of death a moon ago. And even before all of that- he’d always been so careful with her- not always handling her like this, no, but...

Hells, Nero really did deserve so much better, but he chose her anyways. That, Winter was thankful for.

—

It had been far, far too long since Nero had anything like this. He’d almost forgotten what it was like- terrifying and thrilling in equal measure, and most certainly something he didn’t want to give up, to have someone he cared so much for. But now, he had Winter’s (plenty) smaller form tucked against his chest, wrapped in his arms, and for the first time in five years he felt... content. Adequate, even.

She’d never compared him to anyone other than himself, after all. Never considered him as anything more or less than an equal- everyone was an equal, to her. No one was above or below anyone else, regardless of race, creed, circumstances, status, or whatever else- not to her, not to Cassia, and most certainly not now, as Winter.

(He still wanted to call her Cassia- if anything, it felt more intimate now. But it was her call, not his.)

“I can hear you thinking,” she mumbled, and Nero snorted. His hands traced her scars- some he knew, some he didn’t.

“Of course. Should I try to think quieter so the princess can sleep?”

“Oh shut it, you oaf,” Winter giggled, lightly smacking his shoulder. Nero grinned and chuckled, pulling her closer and burying his nose in her hair, and before long they were just- laughing.

And it felt so, so _good_. It felt like _home_.

“I really have missed you,” he said quietly, once they calmed down. His forehead was pressed to hers, looking into her eyes and she looked back with a small little smile.

“You’re a sap,” Winter teased. “Proven by you saying things like that in The Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Cartenau.”

Nero choked on his laughter. Yes, it most certainly felt like home with her back by his side, making comments like that.

—

“Hey, Nero?”

“Hm?”

She squeezed his hand, their fingers laced together, and looked up at him. Winter’s expression, so soft and unguarded and _happy_ , made his heart skip a beat.

“I love you.”

Five years. It’d been _five years_ since he last heard her say that- and he’d never gotten a chance to reply. Because then- then the Calamity had hit, Bahamut had broken free and he’d lost her. But this time- _this time_ , Nero wouldn’t let go. He didn’t have the words, so instead he picked her up, and she blinked in surprise at first before smiling and shifting her weight to balance better, two fulms off the ground with her arms around his neck.

Winter felt at home for the first time since she left the Slaters, and she couldn’t be happier for it. No words needed to be spoken for her to know he felt the same.


End file.
